


Breaking Free

by Samunderthelights



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Actor timothee, Bodyguard Armie, Boss/Employee Relationship, Charmie, Eventual Happy Ending, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-09-27 19:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17167922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samunderthelights/pseuds/Samunderthelights
Summary: Once upon a time Armie Hammer had wanted to be an actor, but things hadn't worked out. He had ended up staying in the business though, but not as an actor. He now works for security. A bodyguard some would call him. So far, he has worked for young actors who had hardly needed any security at all, but today he is starting a new job, working for Timothée Chalamet, who is already predicted to be the next big thing in Hollywood.  Timothée Chalamet, who seems to have it all. But all is not as it seems.





	1. "What's your name again?"

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys,
> 
> I had this vision in my head, of Armie Hammer on a motorcycle, and I couldn't get it out of my head. The vision turned into a scene, and it quickly turned into an entire story. So I wrote this during NaNoWriMo this year, and I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you will enjoy reading it!
> 
> Merry Christmas!
> 
> xx
> 
> P.S. Just a little warning, there is some alcohol abuse in this story. It's not what the story is about, but if this kind of thing triggers you, then please do not read this story.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/samanthadroppie/31856957677/in/dateposted-public/)

Armie can’t help but look around him, thinking how the hotel suite is at least twice the size of his apartment. How the sofa doesn’t have holes in it, how the table doesn’t need a book underneath its leg to keep it from falling over.  
How this suite is for a young up and coming actor, who will only be staying here for two nights. Yet, there is a painting on the wall, with his face on it.  
As he wants to go over to check it out, the door opens, and the actor comes in, with a team of people around him, all chatting to him about the schedule for today. He seems focused, but Armie can see that he is tired, and that all he wants to do is send them away and relax. He knows the signs by now. After all, he has been looking after people, mainly young actors, for years.  
Once upon a time he thought he was going to be an actor himself, but things hadn’t worked out. He had somehow ended up staying in the business though, not as an actor, but helping out with security. Being young, and looking the way he does, people usually assume he is a friend of the actor he is working for. So far, it has been an advantage, and it has made his job easier. It has also been an advantage that he has only ever worked for lesser-known actors.  
But things had never worked out, and he had always been replaced by bulkier, stronger-looking men. It had made the people he worked for feel more important. He didn’t mind though, because moving on from a job means a change of scenery. And somehow, he had ended up here, getting a job working for Timothée Chalamet, who is already predicted to be the next big thing.

“Oh, yes, this is… what’s your name again?” one of the members from Timothée’s team asks, as he points at Armie.  
“Armie.”  
“Armie…”  
“Hammer, sir,” Armie says, and he flashes a small, uncomfortable smile, when the entire team stares at him.  
“Right, they told me you’d be here today,” Timothée says, and he steps up to him, and sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you, man.”  
“It’s nice to meet you too, sir.”  
“Sir?” the young actor laughs, but not in a mocking way. “I’m not…,” he laughs, as he looks down at his feet, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Yeah, just call me Timothée, please.”  
“Sure,” Armie says, but he knows that he will not call him by his name, because he isn’t allowed to. A distance, a professionalism between them is remained to be kept, and using first names is a mistake he has made before.  
“We’ve still got some things to discuss, but why don’t you grab a drink?” Timothée suggests. “I think there’s a mini-bar around here somewhere.”  
“Yes, it’s over there,” a member from his team says, pointing at the next room. “You can go in there. You have been informed on…”  
“Yes,” Armie interrupts her. He had spent hours listening to a member of Timothée’s team, informing him on just about every detail of his life, his schedule, what his plans are for the next days, weeks, months. Armie can safely say that he now probably knows more about the young actor than his family does.  
“Good, Timothée will be with you soon,” the woman says, and Armie knows when he needs to leave a room. So he goes into the next room, but he doesn’t get himself a drink. He has made that mistake before too. He is nothing to the actors, not a friend, not a member of their team. Not really. He is a part of their security. That is all. To them, he is not even a human being.

“I didn’t think they’d ever leave,” Timothée says, as he enters the room, before stretching, and yawning. “They’ve been trying to explain my schedule for the week all day, but…”  
“You haven’t got a clue?” Armie asks, and the young actor gets a sheepish grin on his face. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ve got someone to make sure you’re in the right place, at the right time.”  
“I do,” the young actor says, looking uncomfortable, as he brushes his hair behind his ear. “So… who else have you worked with?”  
“I’m afraid I can’t say.”  
“Right…,” Timothée says, and an awkward silence follows. “Can I get you a drink?” he eventually asks, as he gets up and goes over to the mini-bar. He opens it, and Armie wants to stop him and tell him how expensive these drinks are, to just go to the store across the street and buy the same drinks for not even a third of the prize. But he keeps his mouth shut, and watches the young actor check out the drinks. “What can I get you?”  
“I’m fine, thank you.”  
“Are you sure? We’ve got… what’s this?” Timothée asks, as he picks up a bottle, and Armie can’t help but smile.  
“You don’t want to drink that. It tastes like it came out of a toilet,” he says, and the young actor turns around and looks at him. “It does.”  
“Do I want to know how you know what that tastes like?”  
“You don’t,” Armie says, and he catches himself smiling again. He quickly forces himself to be serious again, professional. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”  
“I don’t know,” Timothée says, as he puts the bottle down onto the table. “I’ve never had any security before. But last month when I was in New York, they tore my jacket off my back, ripped it to pieces, fighting over it.”  
“They told me about that.”  
“I don’t know how this works. Do we…,” the young actor begins, looking awkward. “You know… are we supposed to hang out, or…”  
“You do what you normally do. You’ve got my number, if you need me, call me, or send me a text,” Armie explains. “If you leave your room, let me know.”  
“And tomorrow?”  
“You’ll hardly know I’m there.”  
“Right…,” the young actor says, and Armie can see that it will take some time for him to get used to this.  
“I am staying in the room next to yours, so just…”  
“Give you a call?” Timothée asks, and Armie gives a nod. He gets up, and is about to leave, when he hears footsteps following him. “I was just going to order some food in. Do you want to stay?”  
“I don’t think I should…”  
“My treat,” Timothée quickly interrupts in, flashing a nervous smile.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Armie says, and without saying another word, he leaves the hotel suite. He goes into the smaller room next to it, and is shocked to find that it is still bigger than his own apartment back home. At first he thinks he has entered the wrong room, but his suitcase is waiting for him by the desk, on which there is a note with his name on it. He picks it up, and he is expecting it to be a note from the hotel, but it is Timothée’s schedule again.  
And as he puts it back down, he struggles to stifle a yawn. Only hours ago, he had arrived in the city. He had been picked up by a driver, sent by Timothée’s team, and without seeing the city at all, he had been brought to the hotel, to have a meeting. He is used to it by now, but as he looks out of the window, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be one of the people out there. What it would be like to have a day off, to just walk around and enjoy life. To not constantly be on edge, looking out for danger. But he can’t deny that he loves his job, and he can’t imagine himself doing anything else. Not anymore.

***

“Hey, man, come in,” Timothée says, as he opens the door, still drinking his cup of coffee.  
“We should…”  
“Yeah, I know. I’m almost ready. You want a coffee?” the young actor asks, as he goes into the living area of the suite. Armie follows him, and he is shocked to see empty miniature bottles of alcohol all over the table and sofa.  
“Did you have someone over last night?”  
“No, why?” Timothée asks. “Coffee?”  
“I’m fine, thanks,” Armie says, now noticing even more empty miniature bottles next to the table. “So you had no friends over?”  
“No.” Timothée shrugs, before putting his empty mug down on the table. Armie can’t help but feel a little suspicious, but he decides not to ask any further. Not yet. And after the actor has put his shoes on and grabbed his phone, the two men leave the suite.  
“Wait, where are we going?” Timothée asks, when Armie leads him towards the hotel restaurant. “The exit is that way.”  
“I know. But we’re not going that way.”  
“Right…”  
“I’m sorry, but…”  
“What about the fans?” Timothée interrupts him, as Armie leads him into the restaurant. “They’ve been waiting for hours.”  
“I’ve been asked to keep you away from them. It’s too dangerous. After New York…”  
“No,” the actor interrupts him again. “I know what they did was fucked up, but they’re still fans. I want to go out there and meet them. That’s why you’re here, right? To make sure something like what happened in New York won’t happen again.”  
“But I was asked to…”  
“I know,” Timothée interrupts him yet again, and Armie is starting to get frustrated, as he leads him into the restaurant kitchen. “But you’re working for me, yeah? And I want to meet my fans. So you do your job, and keep me safe out there.”  
“Are you sure?” Armie asks, and Timothée nods.  
“I’m nothing without them,” he says, before pushing open the door to the kitchen exit. A car with blacked out windows is waiting there, and without even waiting for Armie to say anything, he gets in. Armie follows him into the car, and even now, after all these years, it still makes him feel uncomfortable, sitting in a car like this. He is afraid to even touch the seat, afraid to damage it, knowing he can’t afford to pay for it. But before he can even think about it, the car drives off, and the sound of screaming fans can be heard. They can’t even see Timothée, but they can put two and two together, and when they see the expensive car with blacked out windows, they know it’s him.  
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” the actor says, staring out of the windows, as the car carefully makes its way through the crowd.  
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Armie hears himself say, and Timothée looks at him with a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”  
“I know what you meant,” Timothée laughs. “Next week they’ll still be here, screaming someone else’s name. I know how it works.”  
“Your new movie seems to be getting a lot of media attention though.”  
“I guess.”  
“People are saying you’re a real contender for the Oscars this year,” Armie says, and the young actor gets a shy smile on his face. He brushes the hair behind his ears, and looks down at his feet.  
“You read that stuff?”  
“I had to know who I was going to be working for, didn’t I?” Armie asks, and for just a moment, he thinks he can see a blush on the young man’s face. But Timothée looks away, out of the window, and Armie decides to leave it at that.

***

“That’s enough!” Armie says, as he places himself in between Timothée and a group of girls who keep trying to put their hands on him. “We’ve got to go now.”  
“Sure,” Timothée says, “It was nice meeting you,” he says, and before the girls can say another word, he and Armie quickly turn and leave, to go back to the hotel.  
Armie has been working for the actor for a few weeks now, and so far his job has been easy enough. There have been no real issues, and Timothée is easy to get along, or rather, work with. But tonight there is a party, and the actor has been invited. He wanted to go on his own, but after a long and tiresome meeting, his team and Armie had decided that it would be best for him to be there as well.  
He knows it will be awkward, standing around, watching the young man enjoy himself. Especially having noticed how much he drinks when he is on his own. He can’t even begin to imagine what he will be like when he is out with friends. If they even are his friends, and not just colleagues. But he has seen these types of parties before, and he knows the kind of things that happen once alcohol comes into play.  
“Do you know who will be there tonight?” he asks, as they make their way into the hotel.  
“I’m not sure. I know Adeline will be there, but… no idea who else.”  
“Adeline?”  
“Oh, yeah. We were in this movie together, a couple of years ago. We still see each other every once in a while,” Timothée explains, as they get into the elevator. “But I think there’ll be mostly models.”  
“Really?”  
“yeah, it’s to celebrate the beginning of some fashion event. Some of them can be a bit…,” the actor says, and he shrugs. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way to enjoy yourself,” he laughs.  
“I’ll be there to work,” Armie says, and Timothée looks down at his feet, an embarrassed look on his face.  
“Sorry,” he says, and a tense silence follows, until they arrive at their adjoining rooms. “So…”  
“I will pick you up at seven,” Armie says, and without saying another word, he goes into his own room. But he stays by the door, waiting to hear the young actor enter his bedroom. And only after he has heard the door open and close, does he go over to his bed. He lets himself fall down, feeling exhausted. He can’t be bothered with a party, and all he wants to do is get into bed and get a good night’s sleep. But he can’t. He is still on the clock, and there will be no sleep, not until after the party.

“Wow, looking good,” Timothée laughs, when he opens the door for Armie. Armie is wearing his only good suit, a simple black one, with a burgundy t-shirt. He was wearing a blue shirt before, but he had decided that he looked like he was going to a meeting, so at the last minute, he had changed. He still isn’t sure about the outfit, but after he had lost most of his belongings, including most of his clothes, after a bad break-up last year, this will have to do.  
“And that is…?” Armie asks, but the young actor just shrugs.  
“Some brand. They sent me this last week, but I always get sent stuff. I never know where it’s from. But I thought it looked nice,” he says, as he checks himself out in the mirror. Armie can’t help but laugh to himself, because even from where he is standing, he can see that the trousers and oddly-coloured top are of top-quality, and that they must be costing a fortune. “What do you think?”  
“Yeah, it’s nice,” Armie says, trying not to show how impressed he is by the look. How jealous, perhaps.  
“I know the print is a bit…,” Timothée says, a look of doubt on his face, still looking in the mirror. “It’s good though, right? I’m never sure if it’s too much.”  
“You look fine,” Armie laughs. “We really should go now, or you’ll be late.”  
“Yeah, just let me get my phone,” Timothée says, and he walks away. Armie can’t help but notice the empty miniature bottles in the trash-can, and he sighs. He wishes he could bring it up, ask him if this is an issue. But he knows that it isn’t his place to do so, so he tells himself to just keep an eye on it.

“Where’s your jacket?” Timothée laughs, hours later. He has been dancing and chatting to people all night, and Armie has been watching him, smiling to himself at how happy the young man looks.  
“I took it off, but someone took it,” Armie laughs, and although it was his only good suit, he doesn’t mind. Not right now. The atmosphere in the room is so great, and everyone seems to be happy, that even though he isn’t a part of it, not really, it is a great change from his usual work.  
“I’ll buy you a new one,” the actor says, but Armie just shakes his head. “I will. We’ll go buy you a new suit when I have a day off.”  
“So… ten years from now?” Armie asks, raising an eyebrow, and Timothée can’t help but laugh. But before he can say another word, a girl grabs his hand, and drags him away, and Armie is left behind, still smiling to himself.

“Ready to go?” Armie asks, when the party is coming to an end.  
“Yeah,” Timothée says, the girl from before tucked underneath his arm. “Addy is coming too.”  
“Adeline?” Armie asks, and the girl nods, as she sticks out a hand. “Nice to meet you. Let’s go then,” he says, after shaking the girl’s hand. He knows that the paparazzi is waiting outside, but he knows what he is doing, so he leads them to the exit in the back of the club, where the car is waiting for them.  
The three of them quickly get in, and after Armie has instructed the driver to not go to the hotel right away, because he knows the paparazzi are waiting there as well, he sits back down. He is now facing Timothée, who is making out with Adeline, who is sitting in his lap. Armie wants to look away, but as the two young actors stop making out, he catches the young actor’s eye, and for just a moment, he can sense a feeling of excitement.  
Timothée smirks at him, and Armie is still processing what is happening, when he hears Adeline moaning. He looks down, and sees that Timothée’s hand has disappeared underneath her dress. He looks back up, and is shocked to see that Timothée is still looking at him, now biting his lip, that smirk still on his face.  
All he wants to do is look away, but he can’t. Adeline is still moaning, and it isn’t until she stops, that it fully hits him what is happening. He quickly covers up his crotch with his hands, and looks away, out of the window. But his mind keeps racing, because what was that?  
Yes, he had told Timothée to just pretend he wasn’t there. To just keep doing as he had always done. But he had assumed that he would keep these kinds of things private. It had been an unspoken rule, hadn’t it? But just now, Timothée had been staring at him, it had been as though he had been challenging him. Daring him. Why?


	2. “Have a drink with me.”

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/samanthadroppie/31856957677/in/dateposted-public/)

Not a single word had been said after the three of them had gotten out of the car, and if it hadn’t been for Adeline, who had wished Armie goodnight, they had remained silent. Armie had been glad to finally get into bed, but he hadn’t been able to sleep. Not after what had happened. Sure, he had accidentally walked in on people before, and people he had worked for had said and done private things in front of him before. But not like this.  
He has just taken a shower, and he is still only wearing a towel, when the door in between his and Timothée’s room opens. He jumps up, expecting something to be wrong, but the young actor is standing there in his bathrobe, unharmed.  
“We were wondering if you wanted to have breakfast with us,” he says, and Armie can still feel the adrenaline rushing through his body, having prepared himself for danger only moments ago. “Addy is ordering room service.”  
“I’m fine, thanks.”  
“Come on. It’s no fun out here on your own,” Timothée says, and he flashes a smile.  
“Let me just get dressed. I’ll be there in five.”  
“Sure,” the young actor says, and for just a moment, Armie catches him checking him out. But then he tells himself that it is in his head. That he has gotten things twisted, after what had happened last night.  
Timothée leaves, and Armie takes a deep breath, before getting dressed. All he wants to do right now is stay in his room and avoid the two actors, but he can’t. So he takes a minute to compose himself, before going over to their room, only to find them chatting and laughing, still in their bathrobes.  
“You’re Armie, right?” Adeline asks. “I know we met last night, but I feel like I should introduce myself properly. I’m Addy.”  
“It’s…,” Armie begins, but there is a knock on the door, and they all look up. It’s too soon for their breakfast to be ready. So Armie goes over to the door, and opens it, only to find a member of Timothée’s team standing there. She comes barging in, completely ignoring Armie.  
“We have just gotten a call back from Ellen’s team,” she says. “Someone had to drop out at the last minute, and they want you to replace him.”  
“When?” Timothée asks.  
“Today. You have a photoshoot at five, but I’m sure we can fit it all in,” the woman from his team says, and the young actor nods, but Armie can see that he doesn’t want to do it. He is exhausted from last night, from the last weeks. He needs a day off. And working all day again, it is too much. “So be ready in…,” the woman continues, before checking her phone. “an hour.”  
“I’ll be ready,” Timothée says, and he flashes a small, fake smile. The woman shoots a dirty glare at Adeline, before storming past Armie, and leaving the room. Armie closes the door behind her, and goes over to the two young actors.  
“Do you have time for breakfast, or do you want me to go?” Adeline asks. Timothée sighs, but then he shrugs.  
“I’ve got time for breakfast with you guys. I’ll just have a quick shower after, and they can fix my hair.”  
“Are you sure?” Adeline asks, and Armie can see that she truly cares for him. That she can see his exhaustion as well. Timothée nods, and she puts an arm around his shoulder, and pulls him into a tight hug.  
There is another knock on the door, and Armie opens it again, expecting the woman from Timothée’s team to be back, giving him more to do. But it’s someone from the hotel, bringing their breakfast. And as Armie lets him in, he is shocked by the amount of food that he is bringing into the room.  
“You do know that it’s just the three of us, right?” he laughs, as he sits down to join the two actors at the table.  
“I know, but I didn’t know what you liked.” Adeline shrugs, before tucking into her pancakes. Armie grabs himself a boiled egg, feeling a little uncomfortable. But as he quietly eats it, he can’t help but watch the way the two young people in front of them act around each other.  
“Are you two…?” he asks, but after they look at each other, they start laughing.  
“Oh, no. We are definitely not a couple,” Adeline laughs. “I love Tim, but fucking hell…”  
“Thanks,” Timothée laughs, but Adeline just shrugs. “No, we’re just good friends.”  
“So last night…?”  
“Good friends who help each other out sometimes,” Adeline laughs, as she grabs herself a bowl of fruit. “Besides, I’ve got a boyfriend.”  
“And he’s okay with you sleeping with Timothée?” Armie asks, and the young actor looks up at him with a big smile on his face.  
“What?”  
“That’s the first time you have called me by my name. It’s always been sir.”  
“Sir?” Adeline laughs, nearly choking on a piece of pineapple. “Please.”  
“He’s my boss,” Armie explains, but Timothée just flashes a warm smile.  
“Yeah, I don’t care how much he pays you. He is not sir,” Adeline laughs. “Or is that what you like to be called, huh?” she laughs, as she pokes her friend in the ribs. Armie can’t help but laugh, and although he knows fully well that these are not his friends, and that he is still only an employee, he hasn’t felt this happy in a long time.

“I was going to order in some food,” Timothée says, after a long and exhausting day. Before recording the Ellen show, he had spent time taking pictures and signing autographs for the fans waiting outside, and after the recording, they were supposed to have gone to the photoshoot. But without them knowing, Ellen’s team had surprised a few of the fans waiting outside with a meet & greet. So after that, they had rushed to the photoshoot, which had taken far longer than expected.  
So it’s nearly midnight now, and Armie doubts that the hotel kitchen is still open. But then he remembers that this is Timothée Chalamet. They will open the kitchen for him and bring in a chef if they have to, if he wants food.  
“Why don’t you stay?” Timothée suggests. Armie hadn’t slept all night, tossing and turning, thinking about what had happened in the car, and he can feel his legs wobbling, from pure exhaustion. But he can see the begging look in the young man’s eyes, so he gives a little nod, and follows him into his hotel room.  
“I’m just going to get changed. The menu is on the desk,” The young actor says, before disappearing into the bathroom, still wearing the expensive suit he had worn for the photoshoot, and which he had been allowed to keep afterwards.  
Armie picks up the menu, and when he sees the prizes of the food, he can feel his heart starting to beat fast. If he were back home, a week’s worth of food would cost him as much as a plate of food here. It makes him feel a little uncomfortable, but he picks out the cheapest dish, and is about to put the menu back on the desk, when he hears a sound.  
“What can I order for you?” Timothée asks, when he comes out of the bathroom, wearing just a bathrobe. Armie shows him on the menu, and the young actor laughs at him. “A salad? Really?”  
“Yeah, I…”  
“I need you to keep me safe tomorrow. I can’t have you falling over because you haven’t eaten properly. I’ll get you a steak,” Timothée says, and Armie is about to object, but he has already picked up the phone. So he sits down on the sofa, looking a little uncomfortable. Timothée notices, and as he is ordering, he motions for him to take off his shoes and relax. Armie can’t help but smile, as he does as he is told, and listens to the young actor not only ordering two steaks, but also plenty of sides, and desserts.  
“Are you expecting guests?”  
“No, why?” Timothée asks, as he sits down. He stretches out, and relaxes, but Armie stays sitting upright, facing the other side of the room, trying to remain a professional distance between them. Especially after last night.  
“The amount the food you’ve just ordered, it’s enough to feed…”  
“Oh, yeah,” Timothée laughs, before Armie can even finish his sentence. He looks down at his knees, which are pulled up to his chest, and he brushes his hair behind his ears, a shy smile on his face.  
“I’m not complaining,” Armie says, and he flashes a smile to tell him it’s okay. But Timothée is still looking down at his knees. Armie just starts looking around the room, regretting his decision to agree to have this midnight dinner with him. But then he notices the silver sparkly jacket in the corner of the room, and he looks back up at Timothée.  
“Looks like Adeline forget her jacket.”  
“Oh, yeah.”  
“So, you and her…”  
“She’s got a boyfriend,” Timothée says.  
“And he’s okay with you two…?” Armie asks, and the young actor can’t help but laugh.  
“As long as he’s still sleeping with his wife, I think he’s okay with her sleeping with other people,” he explains, and Armie takes a moment to take it in, then shakes his head, smiling to himself.  
“This guy, do I know him?”  
“Everyone knows him, and his wife.”  
“Wow,” Armie laughs. “and this situation, you are alright with this? You wouldn’t prefer to be in a relationship?”  
“Who says I’m not?” Timothée asks, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve only known me for a couple of weeks. I could have someone out there.”  
“True,” Armie laughs. “But you don’t.”  
“I don’t,” Timothée laughs, and he looks back down at his knees, an embarrassed look on his face.  
“Too busy?” Armie asks, offering him a way out, but the young actor just shrugs. “I get it, you’re still young. You’ve got enough time to find someone, settle down. Just enjoy what you’ve got now.”  
“Yeah,” Timothée says, but Armie can see that there is more that he wants to say, that he is keeping something to himself. He wants to ask him, but he isn’t sure if it would cross a line, so he simply keeps quiet, hoping that it won’t be too long until the food arrives. “What about you? Is there someone waiting for you back home?”  
“No, no one,” Armie says, remembering how his last relationship had ended.  
“Why not?” Timothée asks, and Armie can’t help but laugh.  
“Why? Because I’m always working,” he admits. “It’s not great when you’re always on your own, waiting for someone to come home. And they never do, because they’re always following someone around to make sure they don’t get ripped to shreds by their fans.”  
“Shit, man,” the young actor says, but Armie just shrugs. “Why not get another job?”  
“Because I love doing what I do.”  
“More than…?”  
“I guess so. Because I’m here, aren’t I?” Armie asks, and a silence follows, where Timothée just looks at him. Almost as though he is seeing him for the first time. Seeing the young man looking at him like that, it gives Armie chills all over, but he does not look away. Not until there is a knock on the door.

***

“Come on, have a drink with me,” Timothée says, as he grabs a handful of miniature bottles out of the mini-bar. They have just come back from another event, and although he has only had a few drinks, Armie can already tell that he will drink every single drink in the mini-bar, as he does almost every night.  
“I’m working,” he says, but the actor hands him one of the bottles anyway. “I said no.”  
“Come on, man. It’s not fun on my own.”  
“It’s never been a problem before, has it?” Armie asks, fully aware of how it isn’t his place to mention Timothée’s drinking. But he cannot and will not let him drink himself to death.  
“What is your problem?”  
“What do you think?”  
“No, tell me,” Timothée says, before opening one of the bottles. Armie watches him drink it in one go, and it makes him feel sick to his stomach.  
“Why do you do this to yourself?”  
“What?” the actor laughs. “I’m just trying to relax after a long day. You should try to do the same some time.”  
“I do. But I don’t need to drink to do that,” Armie says, as he looks at the bottle in his hand. “If you go on like this, you’ll die before you’re thirty,” he says, but Timothée doesn’t say a word. He just lets himself fall onto the sofa, as he opens another one of the bottles. “Is that what you want?”  
“It’s a fucking drink,” Timothée snaps. “Who do you think you are anyway?”  
“No one,” Armie says, and he sighs. “I am no one,” he repeats, and he turns to leave the room.  
“Wait,” Timothée says, and Armie turns back around. “Stay, please.”  
“Why? To watch you get wasted?”  
“No, I…”  
“I don’t get it,” Armie says, as he steps up to him. “Are you really going to risk everything you’ve got? For what?” he asks, as he grabs the bottle out of the young actor’s hand. “This shit?”  
“I don’t…,” Timothée begins, but then he looks down at the floor, an embarrassed look on his face.  
“What?”  
“I don’t have a problem.”  
“I never said you did,” Armie says, as he sits down next to him. “But you are drinking way too much. If you go on like this…”  
“I know,” Timothée interrupts him, as he looks up at him. “But all day I am running around, I am doing interviews, Q&A’s, there are people, I…,” he tries to explain, but then he needs to take a breath. “I get here, and there is nothing. No one. So I have a few drinks, to just, you know…”  
Armie can see the embarrassed look on the young actor’s face, and he wishes that he knew what to say. But what he can he say to comfort him, without crossing that employer / employee line? But then perhaps it had already been crossed, when he had confronted him just now.  
“If you’re lonely, why not invite some of your friends out here?”  
“What friends?” Timothée asks, and a silence follows, because Armie just doesn’t know what to say. He sees how the young man is with people, how he can be a little awkward sometimes, but he gets along with everyone, and at parties he has no probably finding someone to hang out with. “I used to have friends, when I first started out doing this. But all the money I made, I spent on my family, and them. I bought them everything they wanted,” the actor explains. “But when I ran out of money, they didn’t want to hear it. And when I had to tell them no, they called me selfish. They said I changed.”  
“I didn’t…”  
“The last three movies I made, I had to do to pay off my debts. I have nothing,” Timothée admits. “I spent everything on them, and it wasn’t enough.”  
“I’m sorry, man,” Armie says, not knowing what else to say. With the hotel suites, the expensive clothes, the team around him, Armie had assumed that he had it all. “I guess we’ve got one thing in common.”  
“Yeah?” Timothée asks, looking at him, fighting his tears.  
“I haven’t got any friends either. When my last relationship ended, they decided that I had abandoned my partner. I had chosen my job, so I was a cold-hearted bastard. I was left without a relationship, without friends, no stuff, I…”  
“No stuff?”  
“It was all thrown out into the street, and seeing as I was in Europe, doing my job, I couldn’t pick them up. So it’s all gone,” Armie explains. “I was left with nothing. So I get what it’s like to come home after work, and to feel empty. To feel…”  
“But you don’t drink.”  
“I don’t get drunk,” he says, and Timothée sighs. “Because it doesn’t solve the problem. You’re still left with nothing. Except for a headache, and an early death.”  
“I know…”  
“So how about we make a deal?”  
“What?”  
“When you feel like getting drunk, because you feel lonely, or it’s too quiet, you give me a call, and I come over,” Armie suggests, and for just a moment, he thinks Timothée will simply laugh at him. Because he is nothing to him. No one. But then the actor nods, before sticking out his hand, and Armie can’t help but smile as he shakes it.


	3. “Do I still have a job?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely comments. I'm really glad you enjoy reading it!! xx

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/samanthadroppie/31856957677/in/dateposted-public/)

“Good morning, mister Hammer,” Adeline laughs, as she opens the door in between Timothée and Armie’s rooms. Armie has only just gotten out of the shower, and he is still only wearing a towel. He feels a little embarrassed, but then he remembers that he had witnessed what had happened in the car, now a few months ago, and he tells himself that Adeline won’t care too much about seeing his naked torso. “Will you be joining us for breakfast?” the actress suggests.  
“Sure. Just give me a minute.”  
“Oh, please,” Adeline laughs, before stepping up to him, and taking his hand. She leads him into Timothée’s room, and Armie knows he shouldn’t be, but he is still a little taken aback to find their clothes from last night scattered all over the floor.  
“How’s the boyfriend?” Armie asks.  
“Still married,” Adeline laughs, as she sits down in one of the chairs. “I might just go out and find myself a boyfriend, just to piss him off.”  
“How about…?” Armie asks, nudging his head in Timothée’s direction, who is on the phone, ordering breakfast.  
“What?” the actress laughs. “No way.”  
“Why not?”  
“Don’t even get me started,” Adeline laughs. “No, I’m just going to focus on my new movie for now. We’re starting next week, and it’s a…”  
“Don’t bother him with that,” Timothée says, now having hung up the phone, and the actress rolls her eyes, but shuts up anyway.  
“I don’t mind.”  
“You do,” Timothée says, as he sits down next to Armie. “If you don’t shut her up now, she’ll still be going in an hour, and before you know it, you’ll know the entire script, who has written it, who is directing it, who…”  
“But…,” Adeline begins, but when the young actor looks in her direction, she just laughs. “Fine. I’ll shut up. So… do you enjoy working for Tim?”  
“Sure,” Armie says, and he can feel them both looking at him. “I’ve worked for worse.”  
“Thanks,” Timothée laughs. “I guess.”  
“I’m glad you two have become friends,” Adeline says, and Armie can feel himself getting uncomfortable. And not just because he is only wearing a towel right now, and he is feeling more than just a little exposed. “It’s important to have people you can trust. There are too many fake people out there. So yeah, it’s good to see that he’s got you.”  
“Thanks,” Armie says, not knowing what else to say. Because he is grateful for the compliment, but he isn’t sure if what she is saying is right. He’d like to think of Timothée as a friend, especially after they have spent most nights together since he has confronted him about his drinking, and they have gotten to know each other better. That is true.  
But he still feels a distance between them, because he is still an employee, and he isn’t sure if Timothée sees him as a friend, or just as someone he is paying to keep him safe. Paying to spend time with and talk to. If it even matters at all, who is with him. Anything but being alone. If he only accepts Armie’s company because he just so happens to be there, and it is convenient.

***

“I wish I could go home for Christmas,” Timothée says, as they are on their way to yet another event. Timothée hadn’t wanted to go, but his team had convinced him to go, because it would be great publicity, especially with the Oscars coming up.  
“You’ve got a week off after tonight, don’t you?” Armie asks.  
“I do now, but I was supposed to be working. So my family is in Europe until the New Year.”  
“You can join them, right?”  
“By the time I’d get there, I’d have to be back already. So yeah, it’ll be my first Christmas without my family,” Timothée says, as he looks out of the window again, at the Christmas decorations in the street.  
“We could watch horrible Christmas movies together,” Armie suggests, and a small smile forms on the actor’s lips. “I know it’s not the same as spending Christmas with your family, and I’m not even sure they do a Christmas dinner at the hotel restaurant.”  
“We’re not spending Christmas at a hotel,” Timothée laughs, as he looks back at him. “We’ll stay at my place.”  
“What, and you’re cooking a Christmas dinner?” Armie laughs. “Yeah, somehow I doubt it’ll be successful.”  
Armie knows that this Christmas will be nothing like an actual Christmas, but he can’t deny that he hasn’t been this excited about a Christmas since he was a child. The thought of spending it with Timothée, of going to his home, of seeing where he lives, of spending even more time with him, it makes his heart skip a beat.

“Come on, just have one,” Timothée laughs, as he hands over a beer to Armie. The night has been long and tiresome, but they are now at the afterparty, and Timothée has already had a few drinks. Armie had been talking to an older man, who apparently, as he realised after talking to him for a long time, used to be famous in the 80’s. He had even won an Oscar. He had been nice enough, but Armie had been relieved when Timothée had come over to drag him away.  
“I’m working,” he says, as he takes the beer from Timothée. But the young actor just shrugs, as he picks up a drink from the bar, before leading Armie over to the dance floor. Armie hates to dance, so much so, that he simply does not dance, even if his employer tells him to.  
“It’s no fun on my own,” Timothée says, a pout on his face, but Armie just shakes his head, as he wants to leave the dance floor. But Timothée grabs his arm, and turns him back around. “Relax.”  
“I don’t dance.”  
“You don’t drink, you don’t dance. What do you do?” Timothée asks, and tens if not hundreds of answers run through Armie’s mind. Things he wants to do right now. The top answer is ‘kiss’. Kiss you. But he keeps it to himself, and smiles. “Who are you?”  
“Armie. Hammer,” he says, as he sticks out his hand. The young man shakes it, laughing to himself.  
“I’m Timothée.”  
“Nice to meet you, Timothée,” Armie says, a cheeky smile on his face. And for just a moment, the two men simply stare at each other, still holding each other’s hand. For just a moment, they are not employer / employee. For a moment, they are not the world-famous actor, and the man working for him, trying to keep him safe. For just a moment, they are just two men. And nothing else matters.

“I’m not drunk,” Armie laughs, as he stumbles into the hotel lobby, Timothée supporting him, or perhaps it is the other way around.  
“Neither am I,” the younger man laughs, before nearly tripping over his own feet. They make their way into the elevator, still laughing loudly, and it takes them forever to figure out way floor they are staying on. But eventually they find their rooms, and decide to have one final drink at Timothée’s room, to end the night.  
But one drink turns into two, which turns into three, and before they know it, there is no more alcohol in the mini-bar. Armie knows that what he is doing could cost him his job, but he is enjoying spending time with Timothée like this far too much, so he is willing to risk it.  
But now that there are no more drinks, there is an awkward silence. Armie notices the young man’s awkwardness, and he feels like perhaps he has overstayed his welcome. So he gets up, and takes a deep breath, preparing himself to say goodbye to this night.  
“I should go,” he says, and Timothée gets up. Armie expects him to lead him to the door, or for him to say goodbye. But instead, he puts a hand on his chest, and the clumsy, awkward touch, makes Armie’s heart skip a beat. He can feel it starting to beat faster, and he knows that Timothée must be feeling it too, seeing as his hand is still on his chest, but neither of them move, not knowing what to do now.  
“I ehm…,” Timothée begins, but then he moves his hand up towards Armie’s neck, and Armie can feel the chills running up and down his body. Because what is this? What is happening?  
But before he can even process what is happening, the young actor has kissed him. And without thinking about it, he has kissed him back. Because this is what he wants. What he has wanted for weeks. Months perhaps. He had been scared to admit it to himself, that he had been attracted to his employer. It had even scared him, made him nervous. Uncomfortable. But here they are. Kissing. It’s no longer a fantasy in his head. This is happening. This is real.

***

“Armie, I…,” Timothée says, as soon as Armie opens his eyes, only hours later. And although Armie has only woken up moments ago, he already remembers what had happened. He already knows what is about to happen. What Timothée is about to say to him.  
“Don’t,” he says, as he looks up at his employer, who is standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at him. “I know.”  
“I’m not…”  
“Just don’t,” Armie repeats, and Timothée sighs, as he looks out of the window. “Do I still have a job?”  
“Of course,” the young actor says, not facing him. Armie looks at him for a moment, seeing the shame, the regret, the bloodshot eyes, the tearstained cheeks, and he feels sick to his stomach. He gets out of bed, grabs his clothes, and goes to his own room, without saying another word. But there are so many things he wants to say. Sorry. Forgive me. Please say you don’t regret it. I don’t regret it. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Please talk to me. Give me a chance. I care about you.  
But Armie stays in his room, keeping his words to himself. Hoping that last night hasn’t ruined everything. His job. Their employer / employee relationship. Their friendship. Hoping that he hasn’t lost Timothée.

***

“Where are you going?” Timothée asks, when he comes out of his room, and bumps into Armie, who is just leaving his room.  
“Home.”  
“Oh, I just thought that…”  
“You can get to the airport by yourself, right?” Armie asks, trying to sound as cold and heartless as he possibly can. Timothée nods, so he wants to turn and leave. But just as he is about to turn around the corner, he hears footsteps coming after him.  
“What about Christmas?”  
“What about it?”  
“We were going to spend it together, weren’t we?” Timothée asks.  
“I didn’t think you’d still want to do that, after last night,” Armie says, and he can see the young man getting uncomfortable again. “Don’t you think it will be a little awkward?”  
“Last night was nothing,” Timothée says, trying to laugh it off. “We were just drunk. I’m not even…”  
“What?” Armie asks.  
Do we need to do this out here, where…”  
“People can hear?” Armie interrupts him, and the young actor’s face turns a dark shade of red. Armie sighs, but follows him into his room. “You regret it, I get it, just…”  
“It was nothing, do we have to keep talking about it?” Timothée asks. “Can’t we just forget it happened?”  
“I don’t know. Can you?”  
“I already have,” Timothée says, but Armie can see that he is lying. But he decides to let it go, to not make this any more uncomfortable than it already is. “Come on, man. Don’t ruin Christmas over this.”

***

“Why did you want to become an actor?” Armie asks, as he is looking at a photograph of a young Timothée up on a stage, performing.  
“I don’t know, man. You know how sometimes people are just born knowing what it is they want to do in life?”  
“Yeah.”  
“That was me,” Timothée tries to explain, as he gets the pizzas, their Christmas dinner, out of the oven. “I had to be on a stage and perform. I had to…”  
“Have attention?” Armie interrupts, and he can’t help but notice the shy smile on Timothée’s face.  
“Exactly,” the actor says.  
“I wanted to be an actor.”  
“You did?”  
“I did a few things, but it didn’t work out. So now I…”  
“deal with attention-seeking brats?” Timothée suggests, and Armie can’t help but laugh.  
“Exactly. But some are okay.”  
“Oh yeah?” Timothée asks, as he hands Armie a plate full of nearly-burned pizza.  
“For sure,” Armie laughs. “There is this guy that I worked for. The money was great, he was great to look at. Great kisser. But couldn’t cook to save his life, so that was a bit…”  
“Fuck you,” Timothée laughs, as he punches him in the arm, nearly dropping his own pizza. Armie notices the blush on his cheeks, and he can’t help but smile, as they make their way over to the couch.  
“So…”  
“You are going to bring it up again, aren’t you?”  
“I get that you are under a lot of pressure, you are Hollywood’s next big thing, they are even saying that you’re going to be nominated for an Oscar, so…”  
“Don’t,” Timothée warns him, but Armie continues.  
“But you can’t tell me that I was the first guy you had sex with,” he says, and the young actor looks like he is about to be sick.  
“I have only had girlfriends,” he says, staring down at his pizza. “I only… I only like girls.”  
“Sure,” Armie sighs, disappointed that Timothée doesn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth. Or perhaps, that he doesn’t mean enough to him. He knows that the young man is lying to him, that there is more to this, and that last night hadn’t been a drunken mistake. Armie can see the shame, the regret, the self-hate, and it hurts to see someone hurting so much. Especially because he has come to care so much for him. But what can he do? He can’t force him to speak the truth.

“I like you, man,” Armie says, as they are saying goodnight. Timothée has just shown him his room, which is no bigger than his bedroom back at home, and to be honest, the entire apartment is nothing like he had expected it to be. It is quite small, and after staying at all those luxurious hotels, it feels good to come back to an actual home again. Even if it isn’t his own home.  
“I like you too,” Timothée awkwardly laughs, as he brushes the hair behind his ears.  
“No, I really like you,” Armie repeats, and it takes a moment, but then he can see that Timothée understands what he is saying. He looks down at his feet, clearly uncomfortable, before looking back up.  
“I’m not… I was drunk,” he tries to explain. “I’m sorry if you thought…”  
“Sure,” Armie says, and he flashes a small smile, trying to hide how hurt he is. “Goodnight, Timmy.”  
“Goodnight,” The young man says, before quickly walking off. But before he has even entered his bedroom, Armie can already hear him sobbing. All he wants to do is go over to him and tell him it’s okay. Wrap his arms around him, and hold him until he has stopped crying. But instead, he closes his door, and gets into bed.  
He is almost falling asleep, when he hears footsteps coming towards his room. He turns his head, towards the door, expecting it to open. Expecting Timothée to come in, to yell at him, to stand there crying, to finally tell him the truth, to do something. Anything. But after the footsteps stop, right in front of the door, nothing happens. He waits for a moment, his heart beating fast, not sure if he had imagined it. But just as he is about to close his eyes, the footsteps can be heard again, moving away from the door.  
Why had Timothée been there? Why had he left without opening the door? Without coming into the room? Why had he not said a word? Armie’s mind is racing, wondering what had just happened. What could have happened. And he knows that he will not sleep tonight.


	4. “You look great.”

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/samanthadroppie/31856957677/in/dateposted-public/)

“This is from ‘Beautiful Boy’, isn’t it?” Armie asks, as he is looking at a photograph of Timothée, on set.  
“It is,” the young man says, and Armie can see the embarrassed look on his face.  
“Do you think you’ll get it?”  
“What?”  
“The Oscar.”  
“No,” Timothée laughs, now even more embarrassed. “Of course not.”  
“Why not?” Armie laughs. “You won… what, how many awards for it so far?”  
“I don’t know,” Timothée laughs, now blushing, and he turns and walks away. But Armie follows him into the kitchen, and sits down at the table, while Timothée makes them coffee.  
“Where are your awards anyway?”  
“I think my mom has them.”  
“You think?” Armie laughs, but Timothée just shrugs. “What would you do if you did get an Oscar? No, what would you do if you get nominated? What did you do when you found out you were nominated for a Golden Globe?”  
“I think I was working…”  
“When did you find out?”  
“A few weeks ago,” Timothée says, still focussing on the coffee, and avoiding Armie’s eyes. Armie is fully aware of it, and wonders if it has anything to do with last night, when Timothée had come to his room, but hadn’t come in.  
“We should have gone out and celebrated,” Armie says, realising that that is what friends would have done, not employers and their employees. But after what has happened between them, he thinks it’s okay to suggest it. He doubts it would cross more of a line than sleeping together.  
“I had to work,” Timothée repeats, before letting out a sigh. “This is the first time I have had time off since… I can’t even remember. Next week it’s more press, then the Golden Globes, then I’m off to shoot another movie.”  
Armie can hear the exhaustion in his voice, and he wishes he could tell him to fuck it all. Cancel the movie. Take a few months off. But he knows that he can’t. It isn’t his place.

“What are you doing?”  
“Reading a script.”  
“Why?” Armie asks. He has just gotten out of the shower, and he had expected to find Timothée relaxing, enjoying his time off. Enjoying Christmas. But here he is, working again.  
“They sent it to me, so…,” the actor says, but before he can even finish his sentence, Armie has grabbed the script out of his hands, and thrown it into the kitchen. “I was…”  
“We’re going out,” Armie says, and before Timothée can object, he gets up and leaves the room to go and get changed. He half expects the young man to follow him, to tell him that he needs to work, that he can’t go out. Not now. But after getting dressed, he finds Timothée in the living room, now having changed, and having put on his shoes.  
“I’m not drinking tonight,” Timothée says, as he gets up, and grabs his coat.  
“No?” Armie asks, a cheeky smile on his face. “We can’t have you making out with people again, can we?”  
“Fuck you,” Timothée laughs, and Armie is glad to see him laugh again. Glad that he hasn’t lost him. But as much as he loves to be his friend, if that is even what they are now, he can’t help but wish that that night had been the beginning of something else.

“Are you okay?” Armie asks, noticing the panicked look on Timothée’s face, as more and more people are starting to gather around him in the club. At first, people hadn’t even noticed them, but then one person had recognised Timothée, and soon enough, people had started to gather around them, trying to push out Armie, all wanting to be close to the actor, all wanting to dance with him, to talk to him, to touch him. Armie had kept an eye on it, and while Timothée had seemed to enjoy the attention, he had stayed in the background, but the minute he had noticed the panic in his eyes, he had jumped in.  
“I want to leave,” Timothée says, his mouth so close to Armie’s ear, that Armie feels the chills all over his body. But he knows that he needs to be professional right now, because Timothée needs him.  
“Let’s go,” he says, before putting his hand on Timothée’s lower back, and leading him out of the club. Keeping a low profile, trying to look like the actor’s friend, not like he is checking out every single person around them, not like he had already checked out every entrance and every exit the minute they had gotten here.  
“I’m sorry, I just…,” Timothée begins, as soon as they have left the club, but Armie notices a group of girls following them, so he holds up his hand, to stop him. The group starts giggling, and Armie recognises their behaviour. He is fully aware that if they don’t leave now, the girls will come up to them and not leave them alone, so he quickly leads Timothée away from the club.  
“I think they’re gone,” he says, a few minutes later.  
“I’m sorry, man. I know this is your time off too, so…,” Timothée begins, as he starts walking, Armie presumes, towards his apartment.  
“Yeah, well, I prefer it if my friends get out of a club safe,” Armie says, but as soon as the words have left his mouth, he realises what he has just said. He half expects Timothée to turn around and laugh at him. But when he turns and looks at him, he has a surprised look on his face, which, when he realises that Armie isn’t joking, turns into a shy smile.  
Armie notices it, and his stomach feels like it is doing cartwheels. Because before, he had hoped that they were more than employer / employee. But even after sleeping together, he hadn’t been sure. But after tonight, after seeing that smile on his face, he is sure that he is more to Timothée than just an employee. After tonight, he knows that Timothée cares.

“Timmy?” Armie asks, as he is about to go into the bedroom at the young actor’s apartment. Timothée turns around, and looks at him. “I like you.”  
“I like you too.”  
“You know what I mean,” Armie says, but Timothée doesn’t say anything. He just flashes the smallest, shyest smile, before turning to go to his own bedroom. “Timmy?”  
“Mhm?”  
“Merry Christmas.”  
“Merry Christmas, Armie.”

***

“What about the blue suit?” a member of Timothée’s team suggests, but another member grabs the suit, and gives it to the woman in charge of the rejected outfits.  
“What about…,” Timothée tries, but before he can even finish his sentence, his team has continued discussing his outfit for the Golden Globes. Armie can see his defeated look, and he wishes he could shut them all up, to give Timothée a chance to speak. But he stays quiet, knowing his place.  
“The red one will stand out,” someone says, but the suit has already been given to the woman in charge of the rejected outfits. So the others refuse to give it another chance. And with every discussion, Armie can see Timothée getting more exhausted.  
“What about this one?” the man in charge of the ‘maybe’ outfits asks, holding up a jacket with a neon-graffiti print.  
“No,” Timothée quickly says, and they all look at him. And while he has the attention, he so quickly rambles out a sentence, that Armie has to try hard not to laugh. “What about the black one with the flowers?”  
“This one?” the man asks, holding up a jacket. A long silence follows, where everyone just looks at each other, trying to see what everyone thinks, before they speak their minds.  
“I like it,” Timothée says. “That’s the one I want to wear.”  
“But it’s so…”  
“Feminine,” someone suggests.  
“Oh…,” Timothée says, his voice now small, embarrassed. Armie can see the defeated and embarrassed look on his face, and he wishes he could make everyone go away. Make him wear the suit he likes and feel great in it. But here his team is, yet again, deciding everything for him, and making him feel terrible.  
“This one?” someone suggests, holding up an orange suit. “He will look wonderful!”  
But Timothée doesn’t even give his opinion anymore. Too embarrassed now to say another word.

***

“Where’s my suit?” Timothée asks, sounding more than panicked. He needs to leave for the Golden Globes in less than an hour, and he should have been ready some time ago. But he and Armie have only just arrived at the hotel, and Timothée will now need to hurry to get there on time.  
“I’ve got it here,” Armie says, as he makes his way over to Timothée’s room.  
“Wait, but this isn’t…”  
“That awful orange thing?” Armie asks, as he hands him his suit. “You liked this one, so wear it.”  
“But…”  
“Fuck what they said. You like it, you wear it,” Armie says, and he can’t help but notice the blush on the young actor’s face.  
“Thank you,” Timothée says, looking down at the black suit with flowers in his hands. Armie flashes him a supportive smile, before leaving him alone to get changed.  
He looks around the hotel suite, and all of the sudden a sense of loneliness and sadness overwhelms him. He realises that since getting this job, he hasn’t really been alone anymore. He hasn’t even gone back to his own apartment. Sure, Timothée has had to work, and Armie stayed behind, in green rooms, or he stayed in lobbies if he wasn’t allowed to attend a meeting. But he had always been there, to make sure that Timothée would be safe, that he would get from one place to the other without being harassed or followed by fans. And at the beginning, when there had been nights off, he had spent them on his own, in his hotel room, but after confronting Timothée about his drinking, he had spent his nights with the young actor, watching movies, or watching tv. They had always been together.  
He had worked for other people, but it had never been like this. He had never built up a friendship with anyone, had never spent so much time with them. Perhaps Timothée had simply not known what was the normal protocol, or perhaps he had known, but he had needed a friend. Perhaps he had simply needed someone. Anyone. When Armie had come into his life, he had filled that space in his life. He had become his friend, instead of just an employee.  
Armie doesn’t mind. Not at all. But as he stands here, in the middle of this hotel suite, it hits him how, in only a matter of months, Timothée has come to mean the world to him. How they, two strangers, when they were brought together, became friends. More than friends. Brothers. Soul mates.  
“I’m going to be late,” Timothée says, as he comes out of the other room, nearly tripping over the rug. Armie catches him just in time, making sure to keep him on his feet. But he doesn’t let go of him, not until he moves in to kiss Timothée, who quickly takes a step back, pulling himself out of Armie’s grip. “What do you think?” The young actor asks, ignoring what had just happened, as he straightens his jacket.  
“You look great.”  
“It’s not too…?”  
“You look great,” Armie repeats, before Timothée can even finish his sentence. “Now go.”  
“What about…,” Timothée asks, but before he gets a chance to finish his question, Armie has stepped up to him, and has brushed his hair out of his face, making sure it looks perfect.  
He can’t help but notice the blush on the young man’s face, and he wishes he could tell him all the things he is thinking right now. The ‘I love you’s’. The ‘I want you’. I need you.  
“Good luck,” he says, as Timothée leaves the hotel suite. But it’s an awkward moment, because he can see how nervous Timothée is, and that he could do with a friend. But the Golden Globes have their own security, so Armie isn’t needed. So Timothée has to go out there on his own, and Armie has to stay at the hotel suite, watching the ceremony on tv, hoping to see him win.

As Armie is scrolling through his news feed on his phone, listening to the ceremony on tv, he comes across pictures of Timothée posing on the red carpet with a young actress. Armie has forgotten her name, but he recognises her as the leading lady in Timothée’s new movie. He has seen her at events before, but he doesn’t remember ever meeting her. Something about these pictures bothers him though. They make him feel something in the pit of his stomach. Something he knows he shouldn’t be feeling. He doesn’t want to admit it, not even to himself. But he knows that he is jealous right now. Jealous of her. Because she gets to pose on the red carpet with Timothée, and she will get to act alongside him. She will get to kiss him. Tell him ‘I love you’.

“And the winner is….” Armie has his fingers crossed, and he is nervously tapping his toes, hoping to hear Timothée’s name being called out. But the silence lasts forever, and his heart starts beating faster and faster. But then finally a name is being called out, and Armie can actually hear himself make a sound, which he hopes he will never make around other people. “Timothée Chalamet!”  
The camera pans over to Timothée, who has a shocked look on his face. He is still not moving, not fully realising that he has won. But then the people around him jump up, and they all start congratulating him, hugging him, telling him to go and get his award.  
Armie can’t help but smile at his awkwardness, as he trips on his way up the stage. How he nearly drops his award, how he manages to stutter his way through a thank you. How he even manages to go the wrong way as he leaves the stage, and has to run back, apologising to everyone.

“Armie?”  
“Timmy?” Armie asks, half-asleep. He had expected Timothée to go to the after-party, so he had gone to bed after the ceremony. But he had only just fallen asleep, when his bedroom door had opened, and the young actor had walked in.  
“Did I wake you?” Timothée asks. Armie sits up, turns on the light, and shakes his head.  
“Congratulations, man. I knew you’d win.”  
“Did you see it?”  
“Yeah,” Armie says, unable to keep the smile off his face.  
“I fucked it up,” Timothée laughs, looking embarrassed. He is still standing by the door, but Armie pats the bed, so he comes over and sits down. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”  
“At least they’ll remember you.”  
“Oh, man,” Timothée laughs, and Armie can’t help but smile. They look at each other for a moment, but then Armie reaches out for the actor’s hand, just to hold it. For just a moment. But Timothée pulls back, as though he is being burned by fire.  
He looks pained, as he looks down at his hand, and Armie sighs.  
“I thought you’d still be there, celebrating.”  
“No, I…,” Timothée says, but the sound of his own voice seems to scare him, and he stops talking for a second. But then he composes himself, and he continues. “I ehm, it’s been a long day. So I thought I’d have an early night.”  
“Busy day tomorrow,” Armie says, trying to hide how hurt he is by what had just happened. How hurt he is by the constant rejection.  
“Yeah.”  
“A meeting, right?”  
“Yeah,” Timothée says, things between them getting more awkward by the second. “I should ehm, I should go to bed,” he says, as he gets up, before looking down at his hand again. “Goodnight.”  
“Goodnight, Timmy.”  
“Armie?” Timothée asks, before leaving the room.  
“Yeah?” Armie asks, as he looks up at him.  
“Goodnight,” the young actor says, but Armie can see that he had been wanting to say something else. He just wishes he would know what. Would it have been an ‘I hate you’. I love you? I want you to go? I hope you never leave? Or perhaps he is just starting to see things, and it simply had been Goodnight.


	5. “You can be both.”

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/samanthadroppie/31856957677/in/dateposted-public/)

“What are you…,” Armie asks, when he comes out of his room, and someone stops him from entering the rest of the hotel suite. “Who are you?”  
“Mister Chalamet is in a meeting.”  
“Yeah, I know. Move,” Armie says, but the man stops him again. “Can I at least go to the bathroom?”  
The man leads him to the bathroom, past the area where Timothée and his team are having a meeting. Armie overhears the words ‘girlfriend’ and ‘contract’, and a sick feeling washes over him. But he pretends to be fine, as he steps into the shower. Ignoring the thoughts running through his mind. Perhaps he had misheard.  
But when he steps out of the shower, and wraps a towel around his waist, he has to take a deep breath. Because his headache is getting worse by the second, as his thoughts keep running around his mind.  
He steps out of the bathroom, expecting to find the man still waiting for him, but he is gone. So Armie goes into the living area, and finds Timothée sitting there, having a coffee, by himself. Armie knocks on the wall, making him jump.  
“Can I come in?”  
“Yeah, sure,” the young actor says, looking exhausted already. Armie sits down on the couch, next to him, and grabs himself a cookie. He grabs Timothée’s coffee out of his hands, drinks at least half of it, and gives it back to him.  
“Do you want me to order you one?”  
“What was the meeting about?” Armie asks, ignoring his question, before eating the cookie in one go.  
“Work. Nothing important.”  
“A girlfriend?” Armie asks, and after seeing Timothée’s embarrassed and horrified look on his face, he can see that he hadn’t misunderstood. “Really, man?”  
“It isn’t… We’re… She and I, we…”  
“Let me guess. The leading lady from your new movie?” Armie asks. Timothée nods, ever so slightly, and Armie sighs. “So what, it’ll be good publicity? Do you even know her?”  
“We met, last night. She’s great.”  
“But?”  
“Nothing,” Timothée says, still looking embarrassed.  
“Why are you doing this?” Armie asks. “Do you really need more publicity? The paparazzi following you around? I thought you wanted them to leave you alone?”  
“I do.”  
“Dating her is going to make them follow you around. Twenty-four seven. You know that, right? If you start ‘dating’ her, you can’t go out anymore, without them watching you,” Armie says, and Timothée nods. “Then why? If you don’t even know her?”  
“Because there are rumours about me,” Timothée admits. “That I’m… you know…”  
“What?” Armie asks, but he already knows the answer. He just wants to hear Timothée say the words. Finally.  
“That I like guys.”  
“So?” Armie asks. “Don’t they say that about every actor? Just ignore it and do your own thing.”  
“I can’t,” Timothée says, looking down at his hands. “If I want to make it out there, if I want to become what they are trying to make of me, then I need to do what they say, or…”  
“Or what?” Armie snaps. “A few girls won’t go see your movies. So what? Think of what you can be, if you are being the real you, Timmy. Think of the role model you could be, for young guys out there. For young girls. If they see someone like you, being true to themselves, then…”  
“I’m not…,” Timothée interrupts him, but his voice is shaking, and he can’t say the words.  
“That’s right, I forgot,” Armie. “You just get drunk and accidentally have sex with guys. My mistake.”  
“That’s not fair.”  
“No, it’s not,” Armie spits out. “You have a chance to be someone. To do something for other people. To be a role model and to change lives. To save lives. But you choose to hide who you are, because you’re a scared little boy. Grow up!”  
He jumps up and storms out of the room, into his bedroom, slamming his door so hard, that he hears it crack. But he doesn’t even care. Because his blood feels like it is boiling. He can’t remember the last time he was this upset, and he struggles to calm himself down. But even when he has calmed down, he doesn’t leave the room.

“Armie?”  
“Go away,” Armie says, but the door opens, and Timothée comes in, carrying a tray full of Armie’s favourite food.  
“I brought a peace offering.”  
“I’m not hungry.”  
“Yeah, you are,” Timothée says, and Armie can’t help but smile as the young actor sits down next to him on the bed. “I’m sorry.”  
“I just don’t get it. What are you so scared of?”  
“This is what I want, man,” Timothée explains. “I want to be an actor, I want to be out there making movies. I don’t want to be a role model, or…”  
“You can be both.”  
“No, I can’t,” Timothée says, and Armie can see the pain in his eyes. “I’m not…”  
“Why is it so hard for you to say it?”  
“Because I’m not.”  
“Sure,” Armie says, and he looks down at his hands. “Do you know, when I was growing up, I was always the odd one out. I was short, a little overweight, had an accent. Then I got really tall, dyed my hair blue…”  
“You…”  
“Yeah, don’t ask,” Armie says, a shy smile on his face, as he remembers how he had looked. “I was always a little weird. But there were always other people who were weird like me, you know?” he says, and Timothée gives a slight nod. “But then I fell in love with this dude, and I thought I was the only one who was that kind of weird. Because there were no people like me. I mean, I heard about people like that, but those guys were not like me. Or their stories had no happy endings.”  
“I know what you’re saying…”  
“You don’t,” Armie says, and he looks up at him. “For years, I felt like I was the only one who was that kind of weird. And it wasn’t until I was in my twenties, and I became an actor, when I realised that there were people like me. I hated myself for years, because I thought something was wrong with me. And if I had had a role model, who had been like me…”  
“I’m not…,” Timothée says, but Armie stops him.  
“There are kids out there, right now, who hate themselves, who feel like they are alone, who wish they were dead…”  
“Don’t put that on me,” Timothée interrupts him. But Armie can see that he has gotten through to him. He sees the tears in the actor’s eyes, and for just a moment, he feels guilty. But then he remembers how he had hated himself, how he had wished for someone to be like him. How he had longed for a role model. Someone to look up to. Someone he could relate to.

***

There’s been a lot of uncomfortable silence between the two men since that day, and it feels like they have gone back to when they had first met. They have gone back to their employer / employee relationship, and Armie spends most of his nights in his own room, by himself.  
He has also noticed the empty bottles lying around the apartment, but he has quietly thrown them out, and he hasn’t mentioned anything about it to Timothée, who is spending every day on the set of his new movie, with his new ‘girlfriend’.  
It has only been just over a week, but the two of them had already gone out together twice, on set-up dates. Set-up for the paparazzi, and the pictures had been all over the internet within hours.  
It had bothered Armie, but not out of jealousy. Not anymore. It had bothered him, because he knows how much Timothée can mean to others. How he can change lives. Save lives. It bothers him because Timothée is still lying to himself. Fighting against himself. And Armie can see him struggling.  
But he knows that he has no place to talk to him about it. He has lost that place. Lost the right.

“I’ve got the party tonight,” Timothée says, as he walks into the living room. Armie is sitting on the couch, scrolling through his news feed, waiting for the actor to get ready to leave. But now that he is here, he doesn’t even look up at him.  
“I know.”  
“You’ll be there, right?”  
“Sure,” Armie says, still staring at his phone. “Will your girlfriend be there?”  
“She has a name.”  
“I know,” Armie says, as Timothée grabs the phone out of his hand. “Ready to go?”  
“What is your problem?”  
“I don’t have a problem. Let’s go.”  
“Armie…,” Timothée says, but Armie gets up, grabs his phone back, and walks past him, out of the apartment they share, while Timothée is shooting his new movie. “Armie!”  
But Armie ignores him, knowing that if he speaks to him right now, it will end in a fight.

“Is she not coming with us?” Armie asks, after they have dropped off Timothée’s co-star and ‘girlfriend’ at her apartment after the party.  
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Timothée says, keeping his voice down, even though the driver is a member of his team, and whatever he hears or sees, he will not tell anyone. “Why do you keep…”  
“Don’t,” Armie warns him, and Timothée opens his mouth to say something, but then changes his mind, and instead starts staring out of the window. Armie feels guilty for being cold with him, for being angry with him. Because he knows the pressure he is under, and he knows that he hasn’t done any of this to be selfish. He is simply scared. But while he knows this, he can’t help but feel hurt, and as much as he is trying to hide it, he can’t. And he knows that if he allows himself to be Timothée’s friend again, if he allows himself to get close to him again, he will only end up hurting more.

Armie is already in bed, trying to sleep, but he hears Timothée in the living room, drinking again. He knows he should ignore it, because they are not friends anymore. He is simply the man who works for him now. But knowing that Timothée is in pain, that he is suffering, it is something he can’t ignore. And although he knows that he himself will end up hurting, he decides that it doesn’t matter.  
He gets out of bed, and goes into the living room, where Timothée is sitting in front of the couch, drinking straight out of a bottle. Without saying a word, Armie grabs the bottle, and he takes it into the kitchen, before joining Timothée.  
“I miss you,” Armie whispers, expecting the young actor to push him away. To scream. To run. But Timothée grabs his hand, clinging onto it so tight, that Armie’s first thought is to pull back. But instead, he squeezes back, hoping to let him know that he knows. He understands. He is here for him.  
“I’m sorry,” Timothée says, looking up at him, and Armie can see the pain. The fear.  
“I love you, man,” he whispers, before brushing the hair out of the young man’s face. He looks straight into his eyes, to try and see what he is thinking. What he is feeling. Because he knows that he won’t say it. He is too scared. Too scared of what people will say. Will think. Too scared to lose everything.

***

“Timmy?” Armie asks, as he comes into the living room the next morning. Timothée is sitting on the couch, his legs pulled up to his chest, a blanket pulled around him. “Are you okay, man?”  
“I don’t know what to say,” Timothée admits. Armie sits down next to him, and puts a hand on his knee, giving it a little squeeze.  
“I really like you.”  
“I know.”  
“Last night…”  
“It shouldn’t have happened,” Timothée quickly says, before Armie can even finish his sentence. “I’m sorry. I had been drinking...”  
“Sure,” Armie says, and he gives the young man’s knee another squeeze, before getting up, and going into the kitchen to make himself a coffee. He wishes that last night would have changed the actor’s mind. But he knows that he can get angry with him, or upset. It wouldn’t change a thing.

***

Armie is on the set of Timothée’s movie, trying to pass the time, by counting the yellow-coloured cars that are driving by during the day. Normally he wouldn’t have been here, and he would have had the day to himself, but when Timothée is done on set, he has to do an interview, live on tv. They know that there will be a huge crowd waiting for him, so Armie will have to be there, to make sure things don’t get out of hand.  
But as he is counting the cars, and fighting to keep his eyes open, he all of the sudden hears footsteps coming in his direction. He looks up, and sees Timothée running his way, the biggest smile on his face.  
“Did you hear?”  
“What?” Armie asks, but Timothée just hands him his phone, so he can read the message. “You’re nominated?”  
“Yeah,” the young man laughs. Armie jumps up, and wraps his arms around him, all awkwardness between them having disappeared for the moment. “I can’t believe it.”  
“Congratulations, man. I’m so happy for you,” Armie says, as he squeezes him even tighter. He can feel Timothée returning the hug, no hesitations, and they don’t let go of each other, not until Timothée’s phone starts buzzing.  
“I should call my mom, tell her.”  
“You haven’t told her yet?” Armie laughs, and the actor shakes his head, a shy smile on his face. “Go on, tell her.”  
“I just…”  
“Tell her,” Armie laughs, and Timothée gives a little nod, before walking off. But Armie can’t stop smiling, because not only is he so proud of him, that he feels like he is about to burst, he also realises that Timothée told him, before he had even told his parents.

“We’re going out,” Armie announces, after they have had dinner at the hotel. It’s already late, and it’s been a long and exhausting day, with a long day on set, and a live tv interview. But Armie cannot let this morning’s announcement go by unnoticed.  
“I’m really tired.”  
“I know,” Armie says, but then he grabs the young man’s arm, and he pulls him up onto his feet. “So get changed. We’re going out.”

“How does it feel?” Armie asks, after they’ve been at the club for quite some time. So far some people seem to have recognised Timothée, but they have left him alone, and he actually gets to enjoy himself and spend time with Armie and celebrate without them having to be constantly on edge.  
“What do you mean?”  
“To be an Oscar-nominated actor?” Armie laughs.  
“Fuck you,” Timothée laughs, playfully pushing him away, before making his way through the crowd, towards the toilets. Armie follows him, because even though this is his time off, he still wants to keep an eye out for him, and he knows that if the actor is by himself in the toilets, he is most vulnerable, and someone is most likely to approach him or harass him.  
So he follows him into the toilets, and as soon as the door closes, the silence changes the entire atmosphere between them. Timothée looks at him, with such an innocent, vulnerable look on his face, that Armie just wants to go up to him. Hold him. Kiss him. But he doesn’t move. He is too scared to hurt him. Upset him.  
But after a moment, the look on the young man’s face changes, and it becomes more determined. He steps up to Armie, and places a hand on his chest.  
“What…,” Armie begins, but he can see by the look on the other man’s face that if he speaks, he will ruin the moment. Break the spell.  
Timothée hesitates for a second, before kissing him ever so gently. Carefully. To test Armie. To try it out. But their second kiss is hungry. Passionate. Full of fire.  
But then someone opens the door, and Timothée quickly steps away from Armie. They both wash their hands in complete silence, acting as though nothing had just happened, the man walking past them not noticing a thing.  
But when they leave the club, they both know that they are trying to get back to the apartment as quickly as possible. And as soon as the door closes behind them, Timothée slams Armie against the wall and he starts kissing him.  
They nearly trip, as they make their way into the living room, still trying to kiss each other, while trying to get out of their clothes as quickly as possible. But when Timothée steps back, Armie feels a sharp sting going through his body. This is it. This is where he realises what he is doing. What it means. This is where he is starting to regret it. Because this is who he can’t be.  
But Timothée takes a deep breath, as he gives a little nod, before sitting down on the couch. Armie joins him, expecting him to now apologise. To come up with excuses for what has just happened. But instead, Timothée starts kissing him again. No hesitation.


	6. “Why did you bring me here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished writing this story before I started posting it, so that was at the end of last year. Long before the Oscar nominations announcement. So let's ignore last week's disappointment and pretend Timothée was nominated, shall we? =P
> 
> And again, a big thank you to all of you who are still reading this. <3

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/samanthadroppie/31856957677/in/dateposted-public/)

When Armie wakes up, Timothée is still asleep tucked underneath his arm. They are on the couch, only a blanket covering them, and Armie has to admit that while last night had been great, he is more than uncomfortable right now. Not only because he is freezing, but also because he knows what will happen the moment Timothée wakes up. He will say it shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake. That he was drunk, even though Armie knows that he wasn't.  
Armie knows he should be used to it by now, and he even blames himself for having to go through it again. Because he knew that this would happen again, the minute Timothée had kissed him last night. But the second Timothée makes him feel like he has a chance, the rational thoughts fly out of the window. And he knows he shouldn’t have hope, but there’s a small voice in the back of his mind that keeps telling him to keep trying, because maybe, one day, Timothée will realise that he can have it all. He can be himself, and be an actor. And maybe, just maybe, Armie fits in somewhere in that picture.  
But Timothée is already waking up, and Armie takes a deep breath, preparing for what is going to happen now. He moves his arm away, letting go of the young actor, hoping to make this situation, somewhat less uncomfortable. But how can you truly make it less uncomfortable, when you are naked on the couch together, after having just slept together? Again.  
“Hey,” Timothée says, looking up at Armie, a little nervous. Very embarrassed. Very uncomfortable.  
“You don’t have to say it.”  
“What?”  
“Whatever it is that you were going to say,” Armie says, as they both sit up. “I already know.”  
“I wasn’t going to…”  
“No?” Armie asks, looking at the actor’s face, trying to read it. Trying to see if he is lying, to spare his feelings. “So last night…”  
“Do we have to talk about it?” Timothée asks. “Can’t we just…  
“Forget it happened?” Armie asks, before getting up. “I already have. You’re not that great,” he says, and Timothée can’t help but smile. Armie loves to see his smile, because he is used to seeing regret, or shame after their nights together. And that little voice in the back of his mind, which is telling him that maybe, one day, Timothée will be okay with all of this, is growing louder by the second.  
“Hey, Timmy?” Armie asks, when he is in the kitchen, making them breakfast. Timothée is still on the couch, the blanket now pulled tightly around him. Armie can see that he is thinking about last night. About what had happened between them. About how it could affect his career if people were to find out. And the smile has left his face, and has been replaced by a sad frown.  
“Yeah?”  
“Stop looking at my ass,” Armie says, trying to keep a straight face. The young man can’t help but laugh, and Armie knows that he has achieved his goal. The smile is back on his face, and Armie wishes Timothée could always look like this. Real. Beautiful. Pure.

***

“Is he in?” Adeline asks, when she and Timothée enter the apartment.  
“No, he’s at a meeting,” the actor answers, and Armie wants to come out of his room, and tell him the meeting was cancelled. But as soon as he hears Adeline’s next question, he decides to stay in his room, even though he knows he shouldn’t, because it isn’t fair on Timothée. But he needs to finally know the truth.  
“So, tell me. What’s the deal with you two?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Oh, please,” Adeline laughs. “The tension between you can be cut with a knife. So why am I seeing pictures of you with miss ‘what’s her name’?”  
“That’s just…”  
“Publicity?” Adeline interrupts him. “I figured. What does Armie think of it? He must be jealous!”  
“Why?”  
“Because he’s in love with you. And you’re in love with him,” she says, and a silence follows. Armie wishes he was in the room with them, so he could see their faces, but he knows that even being here, listening to this conversation, can ruin his friendship with Timothée. So he doesn’t even move, hoping that they won’t find out he’s home.  
“I’m not…”  
“Gay?” Adeline asks. “I didn’t say you were. But you’re not straight either, are you?”  
“Addy, I’m…”  
“Don’t lie to me, please,” Adeline says, and Armie hopes that Timothée will be honest with her. If only because it would mean that he would finally be honest with himself. “You like this guy, don’t you?”  
“Yeah,” Timothée admits, and even from where Armie is, he can hear the fear in the young man’s voice. “But I’m scared.”  
“That people will find out you’re dating a guy?” Adeline asks. “So you’d rather have a fake relationship and push away the guy you actually like? Who likes you too?”  
“I can’t lose everything I’ve worked for…”  
“But you can lose Armie?”  
“No,” Timothée says, and Armie can hear that it was an instant response, given without thinking about it. It means the world to him, and he can feel his throat tightening, and he has to fight against his tears.  
“You love him,” Adeline says. “and I can see how much he cares about you. I know I can’t tell you what to do, but please, don’t let him go. You might never find someone like him again.”  
“I know.”

Adeline has just left, and Armie is still hiding in his bedroom. He knows he will have to come out eventually, or Timothée will get worried that something has happened to him, when he doesn’t come home. But if he comes out of his bedroom now, Timothée will know that he has overheard his conversation. He knows that he can’t avoid it forever though, so he takes a deep breath, and leaves the bedroom. He goes into the living room, where Timothée is sitting.  
The young man looks up at him, a confused look on his face. But it soon turns from confused, into horrified.  
“How long have you been here?”  
“The meeting was cancelled,” Armie admits. “I’ve been here all day.”  
“So when we…,” Timothée begins, but then he stops himself, and he brings his hand up to his mouth, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you say anything?”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“You heard?”  
“Yeah,” Armie admits. He sits down in the chair, opposite the couch Timothée is sitting in, and only now does he realise how badly Timothée is shaking. “I’m so sorry, man.”  
“Don’t, please.”  
“I love you,” Armie tries, but he can see a tear rolling down the other man’s face, and he knows that he is terrified right now.  
“I’m scared,” Timothée whispers, looking down at his hands, as more tears roll down his face.  
“I know,” Armie says, before going over to him, and sitting down next to him. He pulls him into a tight hug, and kisses the top of his head, trying to get him to stop shaking. “I’m not going anywhere.”

***

Armie had expected his and Timothée’s relationship, or even just their friendship, to change after that day. But Timothée had been so busy with work, that they haven’t even discussed it anymore. Things had continued on as before, and Armie is almost starting to feel like Timothée will never mention it again.  
But they are on set, and it’s nearly midnight. It’s been another long day, and Armie can see how exhausted the young actor is. With the Oscars coming up, he has been doing more interviews and photo shoots, and even now, after they are finished here, they can’t go back to the hotel. Not until Timothée has recorded a radio interview.  
“You need time off,” Armie says, and Timothée can’t help but smile. “I mean it.”  
“I’ve got a day off next week.”  
“Make it four days.”  
“Four… what do you mean?”  
“I’ve made some calls,” Armie says. “Four days.”  
“No, I’ve got…”  
“You’re welcome,” Armie says, before getting up. “Oh, and I’m taking you on a trip. So don’t plan any dates with your girlfriend.”  
“She’s has a name.”  
“Don’t care,” Armie says, before walking away. Smiling to himself, because he can’t wait to go home and take Timothée with him.

***

“Wow, this is…,” Timothée says, when he follows Armie into his apartment.  
“I haven’t been back here since I started working for you,” Armie laughs, but even he can see how big of a mess the apartment is, especially when you compare it to the luxurious hotel suites they normally stay at. “Just ignore the cobwebs.”  
“And look at the decorations?” Timothée laughs, because there aren’t any. There is just some mismatched furniture, but there is nothing to make it feel like a home. “Are you sure you live here? Or is this the part where you reveal to me that you’re my stalker, and you’ve brought me here to kill me?”  
“Fuck you,” Armie laughs. “My ex threw out my stuff, remember? This is all I have.”  
“Now I get why you never come back here,” Timothée says, keeping a straight face. But Armie can see that he is just messing with him, so he wraps his arms around him, and pulls him onto the couch. Just to hear Timothée laughing, and letting go, it means the world to him. This is why he had brought him here. Away from the ‘girlfriend’. Away from work. Away from people who know him. To this place, where he just gets to let go. Where he just gets to be Timothée. Not the actor. Not the Oscar-nominee. Where he just gets to be himself.  
“I love you,” Armie says, and Timothée looks down at him with a shy smile on his face. “I mean it.”  
“Shut up,” the young man awkwardly laughs, as Armie looks up at him, his arms still around him. He can still see fear, and hesitation, and he knows that Timothée won’t say it back. Maybe he never will. But that’s okay, because he knows that Timothée loves him too. He doesn’t need to hear him say the words to know that.

***

“Timmy?” Armie asks, after coming out of the bathroom. He had expected to find Timothée in the living room, where he had been before Armie had gone to take a shower. But he isn’t there, so Armie goes to check the bedroom, but he isn’t there either.  
A sick feeling washes over Armie, and for a moment, he wonders if Timothée has left. If it has all become too much for him, and he has run away. But then he notices Timothée’s suitcase in the corner of the room, and he realises that he can’t have left without it. So he has to be around here somewhere.  
He leaves the apartment, and as soon as he gets downstairs, he finds the young man sitting on the sidewalk, looking out onto the street. Watching people walk by. Cars drive by. And no one notices him. No one realises who he is. No one cares.  
“Hey man,” Armie says, as he sits down next to him. “Are you alright?”  
“I felt like I couldn’t breathe,” Timothée admits, still looking at the people walking by. Avoiding looking at Armie. “I feel…”  
“Trapped?”  
“Yeah,” Timothée admits. “I just feel like I…,” he tries to explain, as he puts his hand on his chest, his fingers digging into his skin. “I can’t…,” he continues, but Armie can hear the panic in his voice. He puts his hand on Timothée’s shoulder, expecting him to flinch. To jump up. To run. But he doesn’t move. “I don’t know what to do.”  
“I know,” Armie sighs.  
“Why did you bring me here?” the young man asks, finally looking up at him. “To change my mind?”  
“No,” Armie says, taking his hand away from the other man’s shoulder. “I just wanted you to be away from work for a few days. To be here and see…”  
“What my life could be like?” Timothée suggests, and Armie can’t help but smile.  
“I just wanted you to have some time off from being Timothée Chalamet all the time. I just wanted you to be Timmy. To be…”  
“Free?” Timothée asks, and Armie thinks about it for a moment, but then he nods.  
“I guess so, yeah.”  
“I still feel the same,” Timothée admits, looking back out at the people walking by. Still no one noticing the Oscar-nominated actor. Still no one caring.  
“Yeah?” Armie asks, and the young man nods. “I think I’ve got a way to change that.”

“Wow!” Timothée laughs, when Armie opens the garage door. A beautiful motorcycle is standing in the middle of the otherwise empty garage, and Timothée looks up at Armie, a confused look on his face. “I thought your ex had thrown out all your stuff?”  
“Yeah, well, he didn’t know I had this stored away somewhere,” Armie laughs, but when he sees the surprised look on Timothée’s face, he stops laughing. “What?”  
“I just…”  
“What?”  
“I didn’t know your ex was…,” Timothée tries to explain, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. He just awkwardly looks down at his feet, as he brushes his hair behind his ears.  
“Was what?” Armie laughs.  
“You know, a guy,” Timothée awkwardly admits, and Armie has to try really hard not to laugh.  
“What, you thought you were my first?” he asks, but Timothée won’t look up at him, so he playfully nudges him in the arm. “Huh?”  
“Shut up.”  
“Are you jealous?” Armie asks, but Timothée just keeps staring at the ground, an embarrassed look on his face. “Don’t worry. You are much cuter than him.”  
“Don’t,” Timothée says, but Armie can detect the tiniest smile on his face.  
“And that thing, you know, that you do with your tongue…”  
“Fuck you,” Timothée laughs, his face turning a dark shade of red, as he playfully pushes Armie away. But Armie just wraps his arms around him, and pulls him into a tight hug.  
“I love you, Timmy.”  
“Don’t.”  
“Well, I do, and you can’t stop me,” Armie says, before kissing the side of his neck. Timothée wriggles out of his grip, a big smile on his face, and Armie just looks at him, taking in the moment. That exhausted, worn out actor. Trapped. Drinking. Depressed. Here he is, the same man, but not the same at all. He is laughing. Smiling. Happy. This is how it should be. Who he should be.  
“How about I take you for a ride?”  
“For real?” Timothée asks, and Armie gives a nod, before grabbing one of the helmets off the shelf. “I’ve never…”  
“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle with you.”

The two men have been riding around for hours, and they have just stopped at a diner, to have dinner. Armie takes off his helmet, and turns to look at Timothée, expecting to see him looking tired, but he sees the biggest, most genuine smile on his face, and it actually makes his heart skip a beat.  
“Thank you,” Timothée says, and his heart is filled by so much emotion, that Armie can feel himself getting emotional. “For this, for bringing me here.”  
“We can come back here any time you want. If you need a break from all of that, or… Any time, you hear me? If you feel trapped, or…”  
“I know,” Timothée says. “But I don’t.”  
“What do you mean?” Armie asks.  
“Feel trapped,” Timothée says, but Armie still doesn’t understand. Just this morning, Timothée had left his apartment, because he had felt like he couldn’t breathe. “I haven’t felt like this since… I can’t even remember. No one here even looks at me. I can just do what I want to do. I get to be…”  
“Free?” Armie suggests.  
“Yeah.”


	7. “I’m proud of you.”

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/samanthadroppie/31856957677/in/dateposted-public/)

“What is going to happen now?” Armie asks, when he and Timothée are having breakfast, before they have to go to the airport.  
“I don’t know,” the young man admits.  
“You have to be back at work this afternoon. How do you feel about it?”  
“Nervous. I don’t want to go back to feeling like that again. I don’t want to…,” Timothée begins to say, but then a sense of panic can be heard in his voice, and he stops himself. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”  
“Then don’t.”  
“But I want to act.”  
“Then be an actor, make movies. But don’t be an actor when it comes to your own life,” Armie says. “Don’t let those bastards tell you what to do, or who to be. Fuck ‘em.”  
“But they’re…”  
“No one,” Armie interrupts him. “You’re Timothée fucking Chalamet, Golden Globe winning, Oscar-nominated actor,” he says, and Timothée can’t help but laugh. But then a silence follows, and Armie sighs. “You feel trapped, because they are telling you who to be, what to do. You are living a life that isn’t yours, and it isn’t right.”  
“I can’t…”  
“Yeah, you can,” Armie says, as he grabs his hand and squeezes it tight. “Be you, Timmy.”

***

“…a contract. You cannot…”  
“Yeah, I can, and I just have!” Timothée shouts, and Armie opens his door, to try and see or hear what all the commotion is about. “I am not doing this anymore!”  
“It’s only until the end of…”  
“I am not doing it! I don’t care how much I have to pay! I am not doing it!” Timothée shouts, and Armie can hear the anger and determination in his voice. “You can call her people now, and tell them!”  
“But Timothée…”  
“Now!”  
“No one will ever want to…,” someone begins to say, but a loud bang can be heard, before footsteps can be heard going towards the door. And as soon as the members from Timothée’s team have left, Armie goes into the living area of the hotel suite, to see what is going on.  
“Are you okay, man?” he asks, when he sees Timothée standing in the middle of the room, still shaking.  
“I threw a book at him…”  
“He’s a dick.”  
“I know, but I shouldn’t have done that,” Timothée says, trying to catch his breath. Armie goes up to him and gives him a big hug, holding him tight.  
“So no more girlfriend?”  
“No more girlfriend,” Timothée says, wrapping his arms around Armie’s waist.  
“I’m proud of you.”

***

Armie is just checking Timothée’s suit for the Oscars tomorrow, when his phone starts ringing. He picks it up, expecting it to be one of the members from Timothée’s team, but he is surprised to hear Timothée’s mother.  
“Oh, Armie, thank goodness.”  
“Is something wrong?”  
“No, not at all! Well…”  
“Are you alright?” Armie asks, still trying to take in that Timothée’s mother is calling him. They have only met a few times, and this is a little awkward, especially because things between him and Timothée are still up in the air.  
“I have tried calling Tim all day, but…”  
“Oh, yeah, he is doing press all day for tomorrow, so…”  
“That explains why he hasn’t picked up his phone.”  
“Why do you need to speak to him?” Armie asks. “I can call someone.”  
“My flight was cancelled. I’ve been trying to arrange something to get out there tomorrow, but…”  
“Do you want me to get you a taxi? If you get one now…”  
“I’ll still be late,” Timothée’s mother says, and Armie sighs. He knows how excited Timothée is to take his mother to the Oscars with him, so to know that she won’t be there, it breaks his heart.  
“Are you sure there are no flights at all? Maybe Timmy can arrange something.”  
“I think he has enough to deal with right now, don’t you? But can you do me a favour?”  
“Of course. Anything.”  
“Will you go with him?” Timothée’s mother asks, and Armie’s heart actually skips a beat.  
“Me?”  
“He told me about your… oh, I’m not sure what I should call it.”  
“He told you?” Armie asks, shocked, because Timothée hadn’t mentioned it to him. In fact, since coming back here, they hadn’t mentioned what they have at all. They had simply gone on as they were.  
“He did. Last week. I can’t say I was surprised,” Timothée’s mother laughs, and Armie can’t help but smile. “But Armie, I do want to ask you something.”  
“Sure.”  
“Do you love him?” Timothée’s mother asks, and Armie thinks about it for a moment. Not because he isn’t sure if he loves him, but because he thinks about the moment he had met him. The moment they had first kissed. How Timothée had looked, after he had taken him for a motorcycle ride.  
“I do,” he admits. “More than I have ever loved anyone.”  
“You will make him happy, won’t you?” Timothée’s mother asks, and Armie can’t help but smile.  
“I will.”

“I’m exhausted,” Timothée says, as he gets into the car, where Armie is waiting for him. They are now off to a party, after the young actor has already had a long and exhausting day. But seeing as he is nominated, he has to be there.  
“I’ve actually got some bad news,” Armie says. “Your mom’s flight was cancelled. She won’t be there tomorrow.”  
“What?”  
“I’ve been calling around all day, to try and find a way to get her here, but…”  
“She called you?” Timothée asks, and Armie nods.  
“She tried calling you, but you didn’t answer. So…”  
“What else did she say?” Timothée asks, now looking nervous, and Armie can’t help but smile.  
“Nothing,” he says, and Timothée breathes a sigh of relief. “Just that you told her about us. And she may have asked me if I love you.”  
“Oh, man,” Timothée says, as he buries his face in his hands. “I didn’t say…”  
“Yeah, you did,” Armie laughs, playfully nudging him in the arm. “You told her we’re together.”  
“I didn’t say that. I just…”  
“What did you say?” Armie laughs, raising an eyebrow. “That we have sex sometimes when you’re drunk and you forget that you’re not straight?”  
“Fuck you,” Timothée laughs, “I told her that we’re, you know…”  
“What?”  
“You know…”  
“What?” Armie laughs. “We are what? I’m curious.”  
“That we’ve been seeing each other,” Timothée mumbles.  
“Oh, really?”  
“I hate you,” Timothée laughs, and he looks out of the window. But Armie wraps his arms around him, and pulls him close.  
“I’m proud of you,” he says, before kissing the top of the young man’s head. “And just to check, does this mean that we’re…”  
“Yeah, we are,” Timothée laughs, before looking up at him and giving him a kiss. “Now about tomorrow…”  
“Oh yeah, your mom thinks I should go with you.”  
“Really?”  
“Ready to show me off to the world yet?” Armie asks, and Timothée can’t help but smile, before giving him another kiss.  
“We’ll see.”  
“I can be pretty convincing.”  
“Oh yeah?”

***

Armie grabs his phone to turn the alarm clock off, but he right away notices that Timothée has already left his bed. He sits up, still half-asleep. But as soon as it hits him that it’s the day of the Oscars, he gets out of bed, and he goes to the living area of the hotel suite. He finds Timothée there, just checking out a beautiful, and very expensive-looking suit. But it isn’t his suit, and Armie knows it. Because he was there when Timothée had picked out his suit, and he had been staring at the beautiful handmade fabric yesterday, mesmerised by the pattern, when Timothée’s mother had called. But no, this is a different suit, one he has never seen before.  
“What do you think?” the actor asks, holding up the burgundy suit.  
“It’s beautiful, but…”  
“Do you think it’ll look good next to mine?”  
“You mean…?” Armie asks, and Timothée nods, a shy smile on his face. “Are you sure?”  
“I’m not quite ready to introduce you to people as my…”  
“Armie.”  
“As my Armie,” Timothée laughs. “But yeah, I want you to be there.”  
Armie is staring straight into the young man’s eyes, and although he can see nervousness there, he can’t see fear anymore. No more shame. No more self-hate. He sees a different man now. He seems more confident. More determined. He seems happier. And it brings a smile to his face, seeing the change in him.

“Oh, man. I’m going to throw up,” Timothée says, just before they get out of the car, to step onto the red carpet. “I don’t think I can do this.”  
“Do you want me stay in the car?”  
“No!” Timothée quickly says, and Armie can see that he means it. “I can’t do this without you.”  
“Then I’m not going anywhere,” he says, as he gives the actor’s hand a little squeeze. “I love you,” he mouths, and Timothée gives a nod, as the car stops. Someone opens the door, and Timothée gets out, letting go of Armie’s hand. Armie follows, a little taken aback at the amount of cameras flashing, and cameras filming their every move. He isn’t used to this, and although once upon a time it had been his dream to be an actor, that dream is long gone, and right now it feels like that man who had made a few awful movies, is someone else. He isn’t here as that man, the actor Armie Hammer. Not even as Armie Hammer, bodyguard. No, tonight he is here as Timothée Chalamet’s plus one. His friend. His date. The man he loves.

“How are you holding up?” Armie asks, as soon as they are inside the building, away from the press, from the photographers.   
“I’m shaking,” Timothée admits. He had posed for photographers, and Armie had stayed in the background, but some photographers had asked him to join Timothée. He had ignored their request, but Timothée had motioned for him to come over. So in the end he had even ended up posing for pictures with Timothée, even though the photographers had no idea who he was. And during the interviews Armie had tried to stay in the background as well, but some people had mentioned him, because they recognised him from some of the paparazzi pictures that had been taken of Timothée lately. So Timothée had introduced him as Armie. Just Armie. Explaining how he had jumped in at the last moment, because his mom’s flight was cancelled.  
Armie had seen how nervous he had gotten when Armie was mentioned, or asked to pose with him for a picture. But he hadn’t flinched, he hadn’t hesitated. He had simple let it all happen, and he hadn’t stopped smiling. Not even for a second.  
“It’s a big night.”  
“I know I won’t win, but man, just being here… with all these people. This is… oh wow…,” Timothée says, as it only now seems to be fully hitting him that he’s at the actual Academy Awards. The Oscars. He is nominated. And this is one of the biggest nights of his life.  
“Need a drink?” Armie laughs.  
“How about two?” Timothée asks, and Armie can’t help but smile. “This is insane.”  
“Just imagine how insane it’ll be when you win.”  
“Don’t.”  
“Trust me,” Armie says, and Timothée opens his mouth to say something. But then he just gets the biggest goofiest grin on his face, and Armie can tell that he is actually allowing himself to believe in himself. Finally.

“I can’t do this,” Timothée whispers, his face having gone a sickly pale colour, as the people on stage open up the envelope.  
“You can,” Armie whispers. All he wants to do is grab the young man’s hand, to show him support, but he knows that the cameras are on them right now, so he tries to keep a smile on his face, preparing himself to applaud for the winner, if it isn’t Timothée. Not sure what he will do if Timothée actually wins.  
“And the Academy Award goes to…”  
“Breathe,” Armie whispers, and Timothée looks up at him, a shy smile on his face.  
“Timothée Chalamet, Beautiful Boy!”  
“Holy shit,” Timothée says, and Armie bursts out laughing. Because he knows that the cameras are on them, and people all over the world are watching them. And here Timothée is, cussing, and looking horrified.  
“You did it,” Armie says, and he jumps up. Timothée gets up, still in shock, and Armie pulls him into a tight hug. But he knows that he is just a friend right now. So he lets go of him, and takes a step back. But then Timothée looks at the stage, and he looks back at Armie, and he puts a hand on the side of his neck. And before Armie even fully realises what is happening, Timothée has kissed him.  
Within moments, Timothée is up on the stage, receiving his award, and Armie is still standing there, trying to realise what has just happened. But he can hear himself applauding, going through the motions, before sitting down, as the young actor begins his speech.  
His heart is still beating out of his chest, his mind racing, as he listens to Timothée’s speech. As he listens to him thanking everyone who had worked on the movie, the people whose lives the movie was based on, his family.  
“And last but not least, I want to thank my partner, Armie. I love you, man,” Timothée says, and for just a moment, the world seems as though it has frozen. Armie can see the young man up on the stage, his award in his hands, the biggest, proudest smile on his face. And when their eyes meet, Timothée gives the smallest nod.  
“I love you,” Armie mouths back, and the smile on the young actor’s face grows even bigger.  
“And just one more thing. Yeah, I know,” Timothée says, “I have to wrap it up, but… Someone taught me a very important lesson this year, and I just… oh, man, I’m not good at this,” he awkwardly laughs. “I know there are some of you at home right now, who feel like you are different. Like you’re the only one who is that kind of different. But I want you to know that you’re not. You are not alone, and you’re not… It’s okay to be you,” he continues, and Armie can’t help but smile at his stumbling. At his awkwardness. “This one is for all of you,” he says, and the people in the audience all stand up and start applauding. But they don’t know the true meaning of this speech. Where it came from. How Timothée had remembered Armie’s story. How he has finally decided to overcome his fears.

***

“So… how does it feel?”  
“What?” Timothée laughs.  
“This,” Armie says, looking down at their hands. They are on their way to Timothée’s next tv-interview, and normally they would have taken a car. They would have hidden away. But they are walking to the interview now, holding hands, even with the paparazzi following them.  
It’s only been a few days since the Oscars, but their kiss, and Timothée’s speech are all over the internet. They are the moments of the night.  
“It feels pretty good,” Timothée admits.  
“Yeah? No regrets?”  
“I could have picked a better guy to do this with, but other than that, no, not really.”  
“Fuck you,” Armie laughs, and Timothée gets the biggest smile on his face.  
Armie can see the happiness written all over his face. He can see that he doesn’t feel trapped. Not anymore. There are no more lies. There is no more hiding. No more shame. There is truth now. And love. He is finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a huge thank you to those who have read this until the end. And an even bigger thank you to those who have left such wonderful comments. I'm an awkward turtle and I never reply, but that's because I never know what to say. But yeah, thank you!! <3


End file.
